Carousel Ride
by SegretarioDellaOfelia
Summary: Lincoln is angsty when he realizes that Olivia and Peter are meant to be together; this is his last chance to keep her. Sequel to "Freaked Out!". Rated T for language. **Update Coming Soon!**


Disclaimer: I do not own Fringe characters.

A/N: This story takes place after another story (_Freaked Out!_) I had written in accordance with early S4 events. I would really love everyone to read it before reading this one, simply so you'll understand Lincoln's pain here—it's just background. Prepare yourself if you're a Polivia fan. I ship Olivia/Lincoln like nobody's business.

Currently, Olivia is regaining her 'past-life-with-Peter-memories' and is struggling to decide which man to commit herself to; the mysterious Peter, who's suddenly "back" in her life, or the brave, determined Lincoln who'll do anything—be anything—for her. Multi-chapter, hopefully. Review please, my darlings!

**Carousel Ride**

Lincoln's eyes followed the blonde, ponytailed agent as she sauntered away from the scene where they caught the lovers' killer to answer her ever-ringing phone. She was turned away from him, but judging by her stiff demeanor, Lincoln could tell something was wrong. He decided to walk over to her, but was interrupted by another FBI agent needing verification on paperwork.

_God, this endless paperwork is going to be what comes between us, not that guy._ Lincoln thought to himself as he signed about a dozen files; he didn't like to say his name, not since _he_ could possibly take Olivia, his partner and friend, away from him. Lincoln shook the negative thoughts from his mind as Olivia turned around. Her face was completely alight—something he hasn't seen since she happily found him at the late-night Boston diner. What he wouldn't give to have had a better chance at winning Olivia. Lincoln's thoughts soured; it was all Peter, he was the problem he had to subtract from this equation.

Since her migraines reached their peak of pain and started to affect her performance at work, Lincoln's been worried about her, hoping that he could solve her problems like she's been trying to help him, but the look on her face right now as she's walking towards him, he knows, is not because of him.

"Hey, I'm going to head back to Harvard for a little bit. Can you finish up here for me? Thanks, you're the best!" she called as she walked away again as quickly as she had come.

Lincoln's heart sank; _No,_ _I'm not the best._ He returned to the paperwork in front of him, now on the hood of an FBI-issue black SUV, stealing side glances at Olivia as she hopped in the car and drove away.

_There's nothing you can do, old boy. Let her go. _

But suddenly, Lincoln got an idea. It crept into him and settled comfortably in his mind, just like a virus, _or a fungus, _he mused. He finished signing the paperwork and threw it at the nearby agent, dashing to his own car and revved the engine, following Olivia. The voice of reason was screaming at him to stop what he was doing and just leave it. There are plenty of other beautiful, tragic women in the world he could pursue... but none will be quite like Olivia. Ever.

Painful flashbacks of their partnership returned to Lincoln's mind. Their late nights at the diner when neither one of them could sleep, his first case with the shape shifters and how her eyes looked so lost then—just as lost as he was. His stomach lurched when he thought of the fungus Walter so cleverly named Gus nearly killed him while he was paralyzed in her arms. How scared she had been, but the immediate relief of his safety made Olivia all the more protective over him. Lincoln could feel the tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He painfully thought of the night they shared after solving the case with Gus, the late night drinks that were just supposed to be drinks, but ended up… He shook his head. _No. That was nothing. We acted on a whim after only _one_ beer._ He was beginning to feel sick, and lowered the front windows to let in the rushing night air. He remembered _every detail. _How did she deal with it? Apparently it didn't eat at her like it did Lincoln. It wasn't guilt; it was a little black secret, it was a lost moment that he'd never get back again.

Suddenly two very bright headlights were rapidly closing in on him—directly in front of him. He could hear a horn blaring, and his mind quickly returned to the situation, veering the SUV back into the right lane and avoiding collision with the angry, passing cars. His palms were sweating. What was happening to him? Lincoln couldn't help but think there was a Fringe event affecting his usually calm and collected behavior, and steeled himself back into sensibility.

He remembered his plan to follow and approach Olivia before she had the chance to ruin anything between them, even though Lincoln feared it had already happened. He wanted to believe there was still a small chance for them. Without intending it to happen again, Lincoln's thoughts returned, as they often did, to that night they shared in her apartment after a quick drink at the pub and a very emotional day on the job. They both needed comforting and assurance; fueled by alcohol and hormones (never a good combination) they solved their temporary moments of insecurity.

"_I don't want to lose another partner to this weird shit."_ She had told him. He didn't want to either.

Realizing where he is now, he navigates back through the city towards Harvard—_if she was even going there._ But Lincoln feels like she wouldn't lie to him over something like this. He pulls into the campus and heads for the building with Walter's lab, assuming this is what she meant by "going to Harvard". Right when he settles into a parking spot and turns the engine off, he sees movement ahead; it's Olivia walking out of the building, holding her phone up to her ear. Lincoln jumps as he hears his own phone ring; she must be calling him. Immediately he locates it from his jacket pocket and answers it.

"This is Agent Lee,"

"Hey, it's me," begins Olivia, sounding unsure. "Walter says Peter's been missing all day, and he's not answering his cell. He said something about going to the address the Observer gave him."

"So…?"

"I don't know. It's weird, and I want to check it out. Can you meet me at the Bishop house in ten minutes? I want to start searching there."

"Sure thing."

Olivia's line clicked, ending the call. Lincoln didn't want to go to _his house._ That's the last place he wants to go right now. But he decides not to jump out of the car right now and meet Olivia; he'll leave as soon as she drives away, hopefully without noticing the same black, government-plated SUV in the parking lot.

He watches her get into her car and drive out, then he turns on his own car and follows suit. Purposefully taking an alternate route to get to the Bishop's house, so it doesn't look like he's been following her, yet he somehow arrives there first, and there's no sign of Olivia.

_What am I going to tell her? I have to tell her something. _Lincoln panics to himself as he stares at his sweaty palms. Flashing back to the night at her apartment again, he leans back and closes his eyes, resting his hands on the wheel. He remembers every touch still, every noise they _both_ made. The tension was driving him mad, somehow knowing he could not have Olivia again.

But before he could sink anymore, Olivia's car pulled up and parked behind him, the headlights shining in the rear-view mirror. Without wasting anytime, Lincoln got out of his seat and went directly to her door before she could open it properly.

"Livia, I have to tell you something." Lincoln said, looking desperate.

She looked him up and down, trying to figure out what he meant.

"Don't…um," he struggled to get the right start. "Do you remember what you told me in your apartment last spring?" Lincoln looked her directly in the eyes.

"What are you,"

"You held me and told me you didn't want to lose another partner to all this weird shit that we deal with day in and day out." He paused, letting her recall what he meant. She looked away from him and blushed, sitting back down in the car seat.

"I _still_ can't sleep at night knowing all the horrible truths we come across on this job, and I _still_ don't have any answers about Robert… but I sure as hell don't want anything to happen to you."

Olivia looked back up at him slowly, hesitantly meeting his eyes.

"Things have changed, Lincoln." She dropped her head again.

"No they haven't. Not for me anyway." Lincoln removed his glasses—the ones that Peter gave to him as a man-gift when they all still believed that Peter didn't belong here. It broke his heart even further looking at Olivia shy away from him.

"Please look at me." He begged, reaching for her hands. She flinched at his sudden touch, but eventually opened her hand to hold his.

"I want to be with you, Olivia, but I know I've already lost this." Their eyes met for a moment, cradling each other's gaze before Olivia broke the silence.

"Even the good guys deserve happy endings."

Lincoln exhaled his tension and dropped his hopeful gaze to look at their entwined hands. Olivia felt his frustration, but wasn't sure if she could surrender to Lincoln yet, if at all. She loved him, but she had always felt like he was temporary, and not someone she should give her heart to. But Olivia knew that if she shut him out now, there would be no second chances, and a constant look of sadness upon Lincoln's face whenever he was around her—which would be a lot if he kept with Fringe Division. Olivia lifted her hands to his face and held his head up, forcing him to look at her.

"I don't want you to give up. I know a lot of things have changed already, but I want to stay close to you, Lincoln, I hope you know that."

"You'll still only keep me at arm's length though,"

"I let you into my bedroom, didn't I?" her eyes smiled.

"That's not what I meant!" Lincoln complained.

Olivia responded by leaning closer and hugging Lincoln, pressing him against her, letting them stay in the moment.

"It means I've already let you in," she whispered, squeezing his middle. "And I don't want you going anywhere."

Despite her hopeful words, Lincoln still felt his heart sink. He knew he had to leave, there was no way he could watch Olivia and Peter be happy together and still stick around. It would be too much for him to handle. He's already contemplated asking Walter to make some kind of drug that will make him forget all about his past with Fringe Division, so that he won't have to live with the strange nightmares or the mysterious and beautiful Agent Dunham anymore. Realistically, he would request a transfer back to Hartford, and return to regular and safe (compared to Fringe standards) FBI work.

But something unexpected happened; Olivia leaned forwards and kissed him. She didn't understand why, but she kissed him like she did at her apartment so long ago, bringing back lustful memories to Lincoln's mind; it was all over for him then.

"I don't know where these memories of Peter came from, but I still remember you and that night in my apartment, and if that didn't happen—"

"_It did happen, Livia, _and it _was real._ We were as real then as that damn fungus that almost killed me."

Olivia giggled, recalling the chaotic moment in the subterranean room with poor Lincoln in her lap. Since then, he's been prone to attacks from all things freaky.

"And if you let this go now, Liv, I…" his voice sounded desperate to Olivia, everything was resting on her decision. "I don't know, I might go back to the alternate universe and steal the other Olivia from my alternate self. Cause a big mess." He backed up from her slackening hold, putting his glasses back on.

"The other Lincoln loves her too, you know." He said quietly, stating fact. "He'll do anything for her."

This was it, the moment Olivia felt her heart sink; she had to make up her mind quickly. Peter wasn't anything special to her until just a few weeks ago, whereas she's known Lincoln for almost a year now, slowly developing feelings for him the more they worked together. It was especially the dangerous cases that caused her to feel something deeper for him, longing to just _take him_ afterwards when everything is safe and saved again. It's after cases like Gus, in which Lincoln was almost killed, which are the ones that make you feel so alive and reckless afterwards, never knowing if you're going to escape the next one or not. She knew he felt the same, otherwise he would have never kissed her in the bar which led to more activities agents shouldn't engage in together, he would have never invited her back out to the late night diner just so he could see her let her hair down.


End file.
